


At Least for Tonight

by Celtics534



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Missing Moments, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtics534/pseuds/Celtics534
Summary: He knew they were chasing seconds of distraction. That in a few hours when the sun rose everything would have to go back to normal… back to the arduous separation. But at least for a little while, they could hang in this moment of self-indulgence.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Time for something a little different… something more heart wrenching than my normal lately. Someone on Tumblr sent me a prompt saying they hated the way Harry leaves Ginny after Ron interrupts their kiss before the Horcrux hunt, and wanted a little more and I was more than happy to oblige. This is gonna be a two parter so hold out for that! Huge thanks goes to TheDistantDusk as always! Hope you all enjoy :)

Harry couldn't get his mind to shut down. Of course, it was normal for things to be on his mind. Between quidditch drills, unnecessarily difficult essays, and of course silly things like the little war he was at the center of - couldn’t forget that. Every day, the unreal realization of what he was going to have to do roared in his head. But none of that crossed through his mind as he tossed and turned that night. Instead, the only thought going through his head was her. Ginny. The way she had turned away from him as Ron pulled him from her room early. How stiff her body had become. The way she sounded as she finally wished him happy birthday. Harry never wanted to hear that small fragile tone come from her again. 

His gut twisted painfully as he thought back to how they used to be. Back to those sunlit days, lying on the grass, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Snogging behind random tapestries, not a care whether they were found. And then there had been those days where they hadn’t been able to see each other due to study schedules and detentions, so they had snuck off to the kitchens well after curfew to drink hot cocoa and just have some time alone. 

_God_ , Harry could still remember how hard he’d laughed at her impression of Percy eating a marshmallow. No matter how much of a shit day he’d had, Ginny had been able to make him laugh, to make him feel… normal. Harry had never experienced anything like being with Ginny. Every moment with her was like a ball of light was trying to burst from within in him. It was like she was the spark. 

And then Dumbledore died and… and it all went dark. Even with Ginny being there he couldn’t see past his daunting future. There were moments before the funeral where things had been bright, where it was him and Ginny just lying about. Those few stolen moments always faded back to black once he was left alone again. 

Harry rolled to his side, beating his pillow into position as he went. His thoughts fell back to Dumbledore’s funeral. He closed his eyes, still able to see the hard resolved look in Ginny’s eyes as he had to end things. _Fuck_ , that had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Letting go of… of her was _fucking_ torture. But there was nothing for it. Being connected with him in any way was dangerous, and he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk _her_. 

Ron snuffled in his sleep before giving a mighty snore. Harry grabbed his pillow from beneath his head and used it to smother himself. He needed to get out of this stuffy attic. He fucking needed to clear his head. Rolling to his side, Harry let his legs fall off the camp bed. The hardwood floor was cold on his toes, but he couldn’t care less. 

Quietly as he could, Harry rose from the creaky bed, grabbed his glasses from the side table, and crossed to the door. It took Harry years of staying at the Burrow, but he finally felt as if he knew the steps to dodge when trying to remain covert. He made it to the first landing without any issues, but as he walked by Ginny’s room he couldn’t focus on anything but the closed door, on who was on the other side of that closed door. His left foot landed on a loud step, making him wince. Pausing his descent, Harry listened for any movement, his eyes locked on Ginny’s door. Nothing. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry moved his attention back to the treacherous flooring. 

After what felt like an eternity, Harry hopped down from the second to last step, landing silently on the kitchen tile. No one was around, not a sound to be heard. After remembering that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sleeping in the sitting room, Harry cast a silent Muffliato in the direction of the doorway. He padded his way to the kettle and tapped it with his wand to start heating it up. His gaze drifted out to the darkened lawn, where the wedding tent stood tall and strong in the moonlight. 

“Is there enough water for two?” 

Harry whirled around to see Ginny standing with her shoulder against the wall near the stairs. Her hair was mussed as if she’d been tossing and turning as much as he’d been. 

“ _Gin_ ,” Harry whispered her name, trying to make his racing heart return to normal. “Don’t sneak up on a bloke, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes at him, her lips curling into that mischievous smirk that sent shivers down his spine. “Constant vigilance, Potter, or are you already forgetting things in your old age?” 

He snorted, feeling a smile spread across his face. “I wasn’t aware that it worked that fast.”

“I wasn’t either.” She let out a dramatic sigh, pushing herself upright. “The question now has to be asked, what else have you forgotten?” Her socked footsteps were quiet as she approached him, her expression that of a curious scientist. “Tell me, which artist’s four hour special did Mum make us listen to during the Christmas holidays last year?”

“Now why would you bring her up?” Harry moaned. “I don’t think I could handle A Cauldron Full Of Hot, Strong Love getting stuck in my head.”

Ginny laughed. “What do you mean? That song is a classic and it’s an honor to hear it, or at least that’s what Mum says every time it comes on.”

“Your mum is quite the fan, isn’t she?”

“It’s worse than her Lockhart obsession, if you can imagine.” Ginny chuckled. She was now close enough that Harry could count the freckles on her cheeks in the moonlight filtering through the window. “Okay so clearly your memory isn’t too far gone. Though it’s best we keep an eye on it, just to make sure.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And how are we gonna do that?”

Her smile was soft in the pale light. She moved closer and Harry’s heart pounded. “Simply by having a cuppa.” When she reached out, Harry couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine at the mere idea of her touching him. But instead, her fingers closed around the kettle handle. 

She brought the steaming pot around Harry, nodding her chin in the direction of the cabinets. "Grab a couple of mugs, would you? I'll get this steeping."

Harry could only nod, his throat seeming to have devolved an unremovable lump. He grabbed two mugs (both of them chipped in various places). His attention was only half on his task as he watched Ginny gather the necessary materials for their drinks. Her hair was in a loose braid that went halfway down her back. Harry could remember sitting out on the grassy lawn of Hogwarts, her studying potions, him studying the intricate ways of her hair. How it wasn’t just one shade of red and how she enjoyed it when he played with the ends of it.

“Harry?” Ginny drew him out of his reverie, one brow lifted in a curious stare. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, lost in thought for a moment there.” 

“Clearly.” Her lips curled in a soft smile. She took a seat in one of the worn chairs, tapping the spot next to her. “Come on then, sharing is caring.”

“Uhh —” Harry shook his head. “It was nothing.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Didn’t look like nothing with that little… wistful smile on your face.” She tapped the chair cushion more deliberately. “At least come and sit.”

He hesitated, the mugs handles still clutched in his hand. His mind was screaming at him to run. To get out of there before he fucked things up more than they already were. But his body betrayed his mind as he took the seat beside his ex-girlfriend. 

She smiled at him, “See? Not so hard.” He let her take the mugs from his hands, watching her fill them to the brim with steaming tea from the steeped pot. When she handed one back to him Harry wrapped his fingers around the body, heating his hands with its warmth. 

Ginny pointed to a cupboard to his left. “Wanna make good use of your seventeenth privileges and summon some biscuits?”

Harry easily waved his wand, watching the cupboard swing open and a sealed tin fly towards them. He lowered them to the table gently and popped the lid open with another wave.

Ginny grabbed two instantly. “You know, I’m happy for you, but you having your birthday is also rubbish for me.” 

Harry snorted, grabbing a biscuit for himself. “How do you figure that?”

She pointed one of the wafers at him. “Because now I’m the only one left underage. It was fine when it was you and me against the rest, but now —” Ginny paused, her mouth snapping shut as she looked away from him.

“But now?” Harry urged. 

Ginny let out a shaky breath, her eyes coming back to his with sharp intensity. “Now you’re leaving me again.” 

He had not expected that. “I — I’m not — Ginny, I —”

She shook her head dejectedly. “I know it’s not the same, Harry, but can you tell me something?”

When she looked at him like that, he would tell her anything, give her anything. But he couldn’t rightly say that to her… especially when his tongue had seemed to grow four sizes so he simply nodded. 

“Did you mean what you said at the funeral, Harry?”

The question caught him off guard. “What? I —” Her eyes bore into his, seeking something he couldn’t quite define. Harry had meant every word he’d ever said to her. He could feel his cheeks heating as he took a sip from his tea in order to postpone the inevitable. The liquid burned his tongue but Harry didn’t care. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Which part?” 

_“Which part_?” Harry blinked at her. He couldn’t understand what she was getting at. “I didn’t lie to you, Ginny. I meant everything I said.”

Her chest rose and fell as she took in a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. “You said — you said being with me was like something out of someone else’s life.” She leaned closer, so close that he could count each individual freckle on her nose. Her gaze was like molten lava, burning everything it touched. “But everything we had was only because it was you.”

Harry’s heart pounded against his ribs. He couldn’t bear to look at her, the intensity of her gaze that mingled with the self-guilt and melancholy he’d felt since their conversation at Dumbledore’s funeral. His eyes dropped down to a small gap of the floor between them. “Gin, I — I.” He couldn’t put into words all she meant to him. How their time together was everything he never thought he’d never find or deserve.

Her hand came to cup his jaw, bring his eyes back onto hers. She didn’t say anything, rather just smiled at him. 

It was that smile. 

Harry never would have thought that a smile could bring so much support and affection. But that’s what Ginny was to him, warmth and comfort in a wild world full of horrors, terrors, and heartache. He sucked in a shuddering breath, his head finding support in her palm. 

“I’m terrified, Ginny.” The words came out of him in a whisper. “I have no idea what I’m doing and I’m dragging Ron, Hermione… everyone... down with me.” 

“Oh, Harry.” Ginny said his name in a soothing murmur. She took his free hand that had been resting on the edge of the table and brought his palm to her lips. “You can’t carry all that weight on your back.”

_Neither can live while the other survives._

“No one else can do it. It has to be me.”

She shook her head slowly, her normally bright eyes tarnished with a look of sadness that made his heart clench painfully. “Then let the people who care about you, be with you while they can. Let us — let me do what I can to make it a little better while I can.”

“I —” Harry sucked in a difficult breath. “I’m not used to people —”

Ginny dug her nails lightly into his palm, making Harry hiss. “Don’t you dare think like that, Potter! You have so many people who want to be there for you. Who want nothing more than to help you.” The light came back into her eyes as if they blazed with fire. “ _I_ want nothing more than to be there for you.”

Harry couldn’t speak, fearing that if he tried, he’d break down. He’d tell Ginny everything, ask her to keep him there with her, begging her to take him back, and just pretend like the outside world didn’t exist. 

But he knew better. He knew he couldn’t just push it all away because that wasn’t who he was. But for that moment, he needed solace. He needed her. 

No conscious thought went into what he did next. It was natural and all he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d seen her. 

He drew her to him, pulling her out of her chair and onto his lap. His arms went around her waist as hers came around his neck. His face went into the crook of her neck as he held her tight, breathing in her scent. Taking in her comfort. 

“You help me more than I can ever say.” He murmured the words into her skin as his nose pressed against her pulse point that was jumping dramatically. In her arms… in her warmth, Harry could forget how cold and dark the world was.

He could feel Ginny’s labored breathing as she held him tighter. “Then I’m gonna hold you, hide you from the rest of the world, at least for tonight."

The logical part of Harry’s mind knew he should pull away, that he should distance himself from her so she would be safe. But he didn’t have the strength any longer. Ginny’s nails scratched lightly at the hair on the back of his neck, making him want to moan in satisfaction. 

“Tell me your favorite memory,” Ginny murmured into the silence, her voice soft and soothing as her fingers continued their ministrations. 

“My favorite memory?” Harry’s mind was fuzzy as he tried to think about her request. “I — hm — I don’t know.”

Ginny pressed a feather-light kiss to his temple. “Don’t think. Just say the first thing that comes to your mind.”

Harry pulled back so he could look into her face. The gentle smile gracing her lips drew his eyes. “That night on the pitch.”

She quirked a brow at him, that smile growing wider. “Which one?”

He bit his bottom lip. “The one where you woke me up and we just… we were just us.” 

The twinkle in her eyes grew brighter. “Really?”

Harry could feel the heat spreading across his cheeks and neck, but he nodded. “Getting to talk with you like that… it was…." He couldn't finish his sentence, hell Harry didn't even think he knew the words he was looking for. That night, which felt like a lifetime ago, had brought forth something in Harry that he could define. But his mind would drift back to the way it had been to lie on the field with her, how good her lips had felt against his, the sparkle in her eyes that had made his heart thud loudly against his chest. 

Ginny let out a shaky breath as she brought one hand to cup his cheek. Harry leaned into her palm, adoring the little calluses that rubbed against his jaw. "Sometimes, whenever it all gets too much, I hang on to moments like that." 

In the moonlight, Harry could see the darkening of her cheeks as a blush spread across her skin. The way her bottom lip went in between her teeth… It was simple and natural, yet it made his entire brain short circuit. All Harry wanted at that moment was to kiss her. He knew he shouldn’t, but Harry couldn’t think of anything but her. Anything but her lips and how they’d felt on his that very morning.

“Can I just,” Harry could hardly breathe as he looked into her heated gaze, “At least for tonight can I… can we just…” 

Ginny didn't wait for him to stumble through awkward questions. She cut him off, kissing him hard and fast. Her fingers threaded through his hair. Harry responded instantly, his fingers digging into her hips pulling her impossibly closer to him. He knew they were chasing seconds of distraction. That in a few hours when the sun rose everything would have to go back to normal… back to the arduous separation. But at least for a little while, they could hang in this moment of self-indulgence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the final part! It’s just a little thing but I think y’all will like it! TheDistantDusk was wondrous as always to edit this piece. Enjoy!

Ginny breathed in deeply, her eyes drooping closed. 

“Ginny, dear.” Her mother’s voice was soothing as a hand ran along her back. “Why don’t you head up to Gryffindor tower, try to find a place to sleep for the night?”

She opened her eyes to look into the ones that matched hers perfectly. The sorrow in Molly’s normally bright eyes was overwhelming, even after just one second. It was like the pain Ginny’s mother was feeling was palpable. Yet, Molly was putting on a brave front, trying to care for her daughter… for her children that had  _ survived _ . 

“ _ Mum _ .” Ginny wanted to stay with her mother, to try to comfort her, but her treasonous body denied her the chance, forcing a jaw-popping yawn out of her. 

Molly gave her a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on now, love.” She pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head before gently guiding Ginny from her shoulder. Ginny shakily rose from her vigil beside her mother. Her steps were uncertain as she started towards the marble stairs. 

For all her years at Hogwarts, Ginny had never minded the trek up to the Gryffindor Common Room. Especially when she was dreading the potion essay awaiting her, or when she and Harry had —

_ Harry _

_ Harry _

The name was like an invocation in her mind. Harry Potter, who had just stopped the most heinous monster for years. Harry Potter, the man who had practically disappeared off the face of the Earth for nearly a year. Harry James Potter, Ginny’s ex-boyfriend and the man she had missed with every fiber of her being. 

Ginny’s mind started thinking back to the last time she’d seen him, the last time they’d been alone long enough to have a real moment. That moment had kept Ginny sane through the most arduous year of her life. When she crawled into bed at night, Ginny had replayed the feeling of his fingers teasing her waist, the softness of his lips, the intensity of his eyes as he held her close to him in the dim moonlight of the Burrow kitchen. 

_ God _ , that felt like a lifetime ago, yet at the same time, the phantom feeling made it feel as if it were only yesterday. With a sudden realization, Ginny remembered Harry hadn’t been in the Great Hall when she’d left. A wave of panic coursed through her. What had happened to him? Where had he gone? 

She forced her overtired mind to think. Where would someone go after fighting for their life? It was hard to keep her mind straight when she was so tired… tired… Bloody hell, Harry would be exhausted after everything he’d been through! Hell, the reports about the Gringotts break-in had been less than forty-two hours ago. And knowing Harry, and that was something Ginny prided herself in, he would go to the place he’d slept for the past six years while at Hogwart. Ginny’s stride quickened as she climbed flight after flight, ignoring the destruction around her. She couldn’t think about what had been her life for the last twenty-four hours. Ginny refused to replay the violent memories that were trying to push to the forethought of her mind. Instead, she kept them at bay with one thought -- or better yet one person. Harry. She needed to see him with her own eyes. Just at least for one minute. 

She came to a dead halt in front of the Fat Lady portrait, for the first time considering she hadn’t known been at school in months and the password had more than likely changed. “Er —”

The Fat Lady simply smiled at her before swinging wide.

“Thanks,” Ginny murmured as she climbed into the common room. Her left foot caught on the edge of the portrait, nearly making her land flat on her face. Ginny cursed as she caught herself. That would be the last thing she needed, a sprained ankle. 

Letting out a long sigh, Ginny looked around the seemingly untouched tower. Everything looked exactly as it had for the last six years. Tables in the corners, comfy couches strategically in front of the fireplace. If Ginny didn’t know better she’d be able to pretend a war hadn’t just come to completion mere hours beforehand. 

She looked over towards the girl’s staircase. That’s where her mother would expect her to go, back to the sixth year’s dorm and her old bed. But Ginny’s heart and feet had other plans. She was halfway up to the seventh year’s boy’s room before she even realized she’d begun to move. The door was ajar, making it easy for Ginny to peek inside. No sounds could be heard, nothing seemed disturbed… except one bed by the far window. She could see his mop of messy black hair. 

_ There she’d seen him _ . Ginny could now go back down the stairs and find her own bed... Except, again her feet pulled her towards him. 

Ginny stood beside his bed, taking in the man before her. He lay on his back, seemingly dead to the world. Hell, if Ginny hadn’t seen his chest rise and fall she might have thought he was truly dead. 

_ Harry Potter is dead _ . 

The words came back to her with the sharpness of a knife, making her breath hitch.  _ Fuck _ … hearing those words… The way it had echoed all around her. Never before had words suffocated her, but as she’d stood beside her brothers in the Great Hall and Voldemort’s cruel voice reverted off the stone, Ginny had lost her ability to breath… to think.

“ _ Gin _ ?” 

She blinked rapidly, forcing tears she hadn’t known about, to fall down to her cheeks. Her focus fell onto his eyes. The eyes that had come haunted her dreams. His brow was creased as he blinked up at her. 

Ginny swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Hey.”

_ Hey _ … that was the first thing she said to him after so long! Ginny wanted to smack her forehead, but Harry simply smiled at her. 

“Hey.” He started to sit up, but Ginny’s hand shot out to land on his chest stopping him. 

“Don’t move, you’ve got to be tired.” 

He blinked at her, his breathing labored. After a second he leaned back onto his pillows, his chest rising high with every breath under her palm. They stared at each other, neither seeming able to break the silence between them. Hell, all Ginny could do was drink him in. Take in every bit of him… there… alive. 

Harry’s gaze took on a new intensity… something about it Ginny couldn’t place, but it still sent shivers down her spine. 

“ _ Ginny _ ,” Her name on his lips is what did it. It broke the dam that had been holding back everything in Ginny’s chest. A sob rose into her throat and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Then another and then she was crying as she stood there beside his bed. 

Before she could even try to regain her composure, Harry had taken her hand and tugged her into him. Her body covered his as he held her close. His fingers caught in the knots matting her hair, but Ginny could feel the pain. No, she was consumed by the truth of all that had happened. The fact that her brother was dead, Voldemort was gone, that Harry was there with her. Her face fell into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin.

“Shh.” His murmur vibrated in his chest, his fingers still brushing the knots out of her hair. “Ginny, shh.” 

“Holy hell, Harry,” Ginny spoke through her sobs, her words muffled. “Holy fucking hell.”

“I know, love.” His voice was comforting, though she could feel the tremble in his chest. “I know.”

She breathed in deeply, trying to control the rapid emotions. Blood, sweat, and dirt all came to her senses. But most of all she smelled him. Harry. His naturally woodsy scent that brought her back to warm sunny days around the lake. How a smell could make her feel so… safe made no sense to her, but with every inhale she was able to breathe a little better.

Her chest hurt as the sobs slowed and the tears trailed off. She breathed in one more shuddering breath before pulling away from Harry’s neck. Harry was silently crying, tear tracks stained his cheeks. His eyes were focused on the ceiling as he tried to silently handle his grief while comforting her. Ginny’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Her hands came up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping the dampness. 

His eyes came back down, locking onto her hers. The way his bottom lip quivered made Ginny’s chest tighten. “ _ Oh, Harry _ .” She pressed her lips to his trembling ones. She could feel his breath hitch as their lips connected. There was so much pain… so much anguish... But in that moment Ginny didn’t feel any of it. She only felt him, the way his lips felt against hers. 

It wasn’t passion driving them, but a need. A need for each other, for solace, that she could only seem to find in him. 

They broke apart slowly, her forehead coming to rest on his. Ginny’s body felt as if it weighed a million tons. With the last of her strength, she rolled to her side, bringing Harry with her so they lay side by side facing one another. 

Her eyes started to close on their own accord, between the comfy mattress and Harry’s warmth Ginny thought she might sleep for a year.

“Ginny, there is so much —” Her eyes opened to see Harry’s wide green ones. He looked so overwhelmed. “I need to tell you — Everything. I need to tell —” 

She placed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. “It can wait.” Her lips replaced her finger. “Just sleep, at least for tonight. Just sleep.” 


End file.
